The Music of the Night
by Molting Parrot
Summary: During a midsummer's night, a young harpist and farmer encounters a silver-haired, smooth-talking cat burglar who claims to be a prince of the stars. As fate begins to take its course, the two realize the profound connection within their souls that has drawn them together and their lives take a dramatic turn that neither would have expected.
1. Chapter 1

_I've had this story floating around in my head for the longest time (presumably two years or more), but was too intimidated by my limited vocabulary and dulled writing skills to spill my imagination to the few people who may read this. So, after making an attempt to brush up on my writing, I have decided to finally embark on the quest to deliver my account of Jill and Skye's relationship. Heh, I made that sound "epic". I did have an "epic" story in mind, so we'll just see how this turns out._

_By the way, I changed Jill's name because. . . well, I didn't like it. I apologize if your name is Jill or you know somebody with that name._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon or Chuck Norris. That should be sufficient enough to avoid being sued and __receiving a roundhouse kick to the face, right?_

* * *

I zipped my harp into its padded case and gave it a gentle pat before heaving it onto my back, grunting under the twenty-four pounds of maple wood, and began the long trudge from my little farm to Romana's villa for an evening practice session with Lumina. This was the highlight of my week; I loved my farm and was very fortunate to live in such a beautiful place, but the work was so tiring and tedious that at times I felt like running naked and flailing an article of clothing in the air out of frustration. It's not like anyone would care if I actually did that, considering the police wouldn't come all the way to Forget-Me-Not Valley just to charge some lunatic with indecent exposure.

I was exhausted, and the midsummer heat combined with the weight of the instrument was taking a huge toll on my already sore muscles. My knees were beginning to buckle and I sighed in defeat, looking for a place to rest.

Managing to drag myself to the side of the road, I slid the harp off my back gently and slumped against the wall of the Inner Inn, sinking to my haunches in the dirt. I turned to face the paneled wall and supported myself against it with my hands, arching my back slowly until my spine emitted a satisfying crack.

I eased myself off of the ground and deeply regretted not stopping at a different building when an annoyingly familiar, smug voice intruded my eardrums for the umpteenth time.

Rock, the libidinous, self-proclaimed village philanderer and pimp, loitered in the doorway of the inn, tossing his blond hair that was styled in a way he apparently thought was sexy. His real name was unknown to anyone; when people asked about his unusual title, Rock just claimed that he was "tough like a rock" and that it was his "pimp name". His tawdry sense of style and sleazy manner drew in naive, shallow girls who, oddly enough, delighted in his provocativeness and often misused street terminology. Contrarily, I found him to be a despicable, perverse, depraved being who wasn't worthy of eating the dirt that any woman walked on.

"Well, well, well," Rock purred in what he believed to be a seductive tone. "Look who came to visit the Pimp Daddy." His voice was decidedly a bit castrato for someone in their late teens, which I frequently noted upon witnessing his lustful and often unsuccessful escapades.

My whole body cringed at his emergence and I whipped my head around at him, ponytail flying. "Actually," I hissed, glaring daggers, "I was on my way to see Lumina. You know, your _girlfriend?"_

At this, Rock chuckled and cast a presumptuous gaze on my chest. "She's not my girlfriend, babe. I don't do wine 'n' dine. Besides, that girl is a trick."

A _trick? _Did he even know what that meant? Surely he didn't if he was calling Lumina such a name. I was fuming at this and immediately began searching the deepest corners of my mind for the dirtiest, most scathing insult I could deliver to the dull-brained miscreant. When several moments of hateful glares at the moron for inspiration proved fruitless, I had to settle for a reprimand.

"Listen up, 'Pimp Daddy'," I began harshly, earning an alarmed stare from Rock, "Lumina is a dear friend of mine, and by far the classiest, nicest girl I know. She has principles and values, which you clearly _lack." _I spat out the last word.

Rock's initial alarm had quickly faded and been replaced with a lazy, uninterested expression, amber eyes wandering to places on my body where they shouldn't have been.

"You're making a _big _mistake by acting the way you are," I continued, though I saw he wasn't paying the least bit of attention. "You know how she feels about you, and I'm sure that if you grew up and stopped acting like a horny desperado, you could have a woman for the rest of your life!"

Rock seemed unfazed by the stinging rebuke that I had so blatantly dished out, just smacking his gum and still not averting his eyes from my body (not that there was much to see). He finally decided to look me in the face for the first time since the unwanted encounter had begun. "Luce, babe, you gotta chill out. I was joking. She knows I'm just playin'."

"Yeah, like _hell _she does!" I sputtered. "If you keep screwing with her emotions like this, you're going to lose the most precious thing you've ever had. Believe me, it's not worth it. She really loved you before you started acting like a deranged wigger, and she still does."

Rock shrugged, indifferent. I blew my bangs up in exasperation, recounting the sad fact that there was just no getting through to stupid people, and turned to retrieve my harp from the ground and trek the rest of the way to Lumina's place.

As I neared the villa, I had nearly forgotten about my little brush with Rock and happily trod the worn cobblestone path uphill, encouraged by the sound of the gurgling fountain and the promise of getting the hell away from everyone I knew, if only for a few hours.

Lumina and I had a lot more in common than met the eye, other than the fact that we were the same age. We were both aspiring musicians; she had been playing piano practically her whole life, receiving strict lessons from her grandmother since her formative years along with diligent practice, while I had taken up the harp more recently.

In the two years since my instrument was gifted to me, I had become proficient enough to play at wedding ceremonies and various events in neighboring towns, earning extra income and being able to sustain myself when the farm did not bring in enough money. It was not only my passion and outlet; it was my lifeline.

Aside from the musical aspect, Lumina and I had deceased parents. Her mother and father died in an accident when she was very young, leaving her in the care of her aging grandmother who was a tad delusional and didn't believe she was old enough to have a grandchild.

I had never known my mother, and my father was always reluctant to talk about her, only mentioning that she left for my own good. How a mother could leave her child for their wellbeing was beyond me, but most of the time I refrained from mentioning her, seeing as it made my father uneasy and distraught.

He passed away when I was fifteen, just after the long struggle to buy our home in the country, leaving me in the care of his old friend, Takakura, who came from the city to move to our disheveled little farm. I was seventeen now and nearly an adult, but Takakura and I had decided to stay together and work the land.

I stepped through the entrance gate, stumbling against the startling texture of the mural and almost falling onto my face. Cursing my clumsiness, I checked my footing before making my way through the yard, past the lavish fountain and meticulously planted flowerbeds that Sebastian, the butler, prided so much in. I knocked on the tall French doors of the manor, momentarily being greeted by Lumina and invited inside.

"Hey, Lucy," Lumina said as she shut the door behind me.

"Hi," I smiled, pulling the cross-strap of the harp case over my head and setting it down beside the grand piano. I hurriedly unzipped it and put the case aside, getting out the tuning wrench to quickly tweak the out-of-tune strings back to normal.

The harp itself wasn't much to look at: it had thirty-four strings and was made entirely of maple, having no colored varnish or fancy adornments to speak of. But the tone and volume were exceptional, especially in the acoustically pleasing environment of the mansion. I didn't care what others thought; in my opinion, it was the most beautiful piece of craftsmanship in the world because my father had saved up the money to have it built just for me in a faraway village and shipped across the sea, telling me that it was my mother's wish for me to do something beautiful and unusual.

"You know," Lumina said hesitantly after I was finished, "I can convince Romana to buy a concert harp for here. Just so you don't have to go to so much trouble with constantly switching the levers and carrying it here and whatnot . . ."

"Oh, that's not necessary. I couldn't ask you to do something like that for me; those concert harps are very expensive," I told her, taking a seat and balancing the harp on my shoulder. Resting my head against the soundboard, I played some chords and a few quick scales, filling the lofty, elegant lobby with pristine, echoing notes and sighing dreamily.

Lumina, however, sat and picked at her nails with a vengeance; she had seemed a little on edge and jittery since greeting me at the door, not seeming to be able to keep still and constantly performing one nervous behavior or another. This was not like her and, being her closest friend, I wanted to know what the matter was.

"Lumina?" I asked sheepishly.

She snapped her head up from chipping at her nail polish. "Yeah?" she replied, seeming a little hasty and irritated.

"Is . . . is there something wrong? You look sort of nervous and I was just wondering if something was up."

She froze, and I was worried for a moment that she'd gone into shock. I looked down at my feet and waited for her to say something to break the awkward silence, about to snap my fingers in front of her face to make sure she was alive, when she finally came to and spoke up.

"W-We got a note," she said monotonously.

This, obviously, left me wondering. A note? Did she have a secret stalker or maybe receive a death threat? Perhaps even an apology from Rock? Heh. Well, I guess that last one was too much to hope for. I couldn't imagine what could cause her to lose her usual composure and act this way; she was usually so prim and ladylike, not snappy and acting like a pissy little Chihuahua.

As if answering my thoughts, she continued shakily, "From a thief. A phantom. I didn't think it was serious at first, but I asked around and . . . he's real. I've heard horror stories. He apparently warns his victims ahead of time." Her face took on an unhealthy pallor and she swallowed loudly. "And he's coming tonight."

_Tonight._

I found myself a little uneasy at first, but kept in mind that Lumina was prone to gullibility; maybe this was just a joke and people were trying to get a rise out of her by telling her these "horror stories". What was I supposed to say to her? I couldn't protect her, much less myself, from a criminal (if he did come) and the butler was no Chuck Norris; it wouldn't be expected of a fine man like Sebastian to burst out of the house turning roundhouse kicks and somersaults.

The nearest police were in Mineral Town and, like I said, wouldn't bother coming all the way to the valley for something as simple as a note. I thought it a bit irresponsible of them not to come check out a possible crime, but then again, the country police here fulfilled the lazy, beer-drinking hick stereotype. People usually didn't expect much from them.

In an attempt to console Lumina, I said the first thing that came to mind:

"I'll stay with you tonight." I thought she was being a little dramatic, but she was all I had and I didn't want to see her afraid.

Lumina gave a weak smile and seemed to calm down just a bit. "Alright. Thank you."

We decided not to practice that night, instead making feeble attempts at conversation. I didn't tell her about my little confrontation with Rock earlier that night so as not to distress her any further. She did bring him up, but I just told her that if he wasn't going to act like a decent man and cherish her and instead strut about town attempting to pick up girls, she shouldn't bother with an asshole like him at all. She giggled at my vulgarity and admonished me jokingly, still trying to stifle her laughter long after I made the remark.

It was approaching midnight, the time the thief had specified in his note. I got up to stretch my legs and get some fresh air to wake myself up, but, much to my annoyance, Lumina grappled my arm with a surprisingly strong grip as I made for the door.

"Lucy!" she whispered. "Don't you see what time it is? What if the thief snatches you up a-and . . .?"

"Relax, Lumina," I assured her. "It's only half past eleven. If he's so fashionably on time like all those ridiculous stories you've heard, I'm sure he'll be here exactly when he said." The stories she claimed to have heard about the thief did seem rather absurd, and I questioned myself as to why he would go to the trouble of sneaking in once before the hit to leave a note of forewarning.

"A-Are you sure?" she stuttered, clutching a hand to her mouth and biting her manicured nails.

"Yeah, yeah. Just calm down," I sighed, gently prying her hand from my arm.

After Lumina informed me of her plan to lock herself in the bathroom with a knife in preparation of the robbery and begged me to join her, I assured her that I would be fine; I always carried a trusty switchblade because I was "badass like that", as people who noted my weapon had said.

In actuality, I carried it around for practical reasons, not to look like a badass. I was really just paranoid that some imbecile like Rock would make unwanted advances, and Takakura had recommended that I carry some sort of protection if I absolutely needed to go out late. Fortunately, I never had to wield my weapon; Forget-Me-Not Valley was so peaceful that people were known to sleep with their doors unlocked.

I knew it was wrong to leave Lumina alone in the house like that, but I wasn't disposed to staying inside on a clear, starry night like this. If she wanted to hide, I wasn't going to stop her; she would probably be better off than me if a strange man was really going to show up. I just assumed from her retold stories that she was exaggerating and the "thief" was nothing more than a petty burglar.

Throwing caution to the wind, I went outside with my harp, finding a nice seat on the edge of the fountain and making myself comfortable; I planned on staying here until after midnight, when I could go back inside and tell the paranoid Lumina that the coast was clear.

My rear was a bit sore from work and did not agree with the hard stone seat, but I brushed it off with a slight wince and glanced at my watch. _11:51_. I was then aware of my stomach twisting into a small knot and began to wonder if I really was putting my safety in jeopardy by not listening to my friend and sitting outside like a stubborn idiot. Maybe I would doze off and fall into the fountain and drown. Who knew?

Slightly delirious, I tried to shake the ridiculous thoughts away and plucked at my harp absentmindedly, eliciting a lulling effect that made me swoon lightly. _Stupid._ From then, I tried to avoid bringing the pathetic image of drowning in a fountain into reality and thought about what I could play that would take some concentration and wouldn't lull me to sleep.

_I hope I don't get attacked by a raccoon, _I randomly remarked to myself as my train of thought derailed amid the haze of drowsiness. _Crazy bastards killed five of my chickens. Then one tried to kill me after I chased it with a shovel. Wait . . . oh, yeah._

A little Irish ditty that Gustafa, the local hippie, had taught me came to mind and my fingers drummed against the soundboard thoughtfully as I tried to recall how to play the cheery tune. Bits and pieces came back and I began hesitantly, a muddled mass of lethargic thoughts hindering my cognitive ability, but my subconscious seemed to push the correct notes and rhythms through to my fingers and I soon found myself gliding effortlessly through the piece. It was like riding a bike, except it didn't involve any falling or bleeding, which I quite liked. I giggled to myself at this thought and my calloused fingers continued to pluck happily, filling the picturesque yard with a beautiful air to harmonize with the moonlit scenery.

Just as I was finished, I heard a soft, masculine voice from behind, speaking in such a way that wouldn't startle me. "Beautiful," the mysterious man cooed.

I looked to my left to see a tall, slim figure saunter over from the opposite side of the fountain.

He had tried not to startle me, but his appearance certainly took care of that; the first thing I noticed was his shoulder-length silver hair, which was striking due to its unnatural color and could easily be spotted in the faint moonlight. His complexion was that of a girl's, which added to my astonishment, and his pale skin was an almost translucent shade of white. He sported somewhat snug-fitting black dress pants with what looked to be expensive designer shoes, his little ensemble topped off with a billowy leopard print blouse accompanied by a tight black undershirt.

My first impression was that he was a homosexual, or quite possibly a transvestite, but he spoke once more and proved my suspicion otherwise.

"Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" he murmured gently, kneeling beside where I sat with my harp and looking up at me dolefully, batting his strange turquoise eyes. "Your beauty is simply too ethereal to be of this world. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, fair maiden?" He made to take my hand, and I obliged, shocked and oddly entranced by this man's contrasting appearance and demeanor.

"Lucy," I said with a polite smile, a bit embarrassed at the roughness of my hand. It was nice to be treated like a lady, even if this, er. . . man, wasn't serious. "And who might you be?"

He bowed his head slightly, features hidden underneath his satiny bangs, chuckling quietly. "My dear Lucy, I am a prince of the stars, and you'll find that I'm quite the ladies' man."

At the "ladies' man" remark, I rolled my eyes and huffed a small sigh. Sure, he might have known it was every girl's dream to have a metrosexual (I assumed that's what he was) boyfriend to do their hair and be their "BFF", but he was beginning to give the impression of cockiness. I didn't like that. He seemed to notice that I had caught onto his pretense and attempted to right himself, getting off his knee and sitting beside me on the fountain, my hand still in his.

"Er. . . I apologize; that was a very poor choice of words. But I assure you that I have no ill intentions," he told me in his silvery voice. "It is just not every day that you see an angel descended from Heaven playing her harp just for you. And such a beauteous one, at that."

This loosened me up a bit, but I erred on the side of caution, wondering exactly what this man wanted.

"I don't even know who you are," I laughed, feeling silly that I was being flirted with by a stranger. "You haven't told me your name, you know."

The man gave an affable smile. "Oh, my apologies again. Allow me to introduce myself properly." He straightened up and cleared his throat delicately. "I am Phantom Skye. Perhaps you've heard tales of my roguery?"

"I don't think I've. . ." I trailed off, trying to see if there was anything I could recall.

"Roguery"? This left me wondering, until I recalled me and Lumina's conversations from not more than an hour ago. Among her panicked babbling about the anticipated "guest", she had mentioned something about a phantom._ Phantom _Skye. . . oh. _Oh._ My body went completely rigid when I realized that this man- this exotic, charming, genteel, elegant man- was, indeed, the Phantom Thief himself.

I drew back in fear, withdrawing my hand and readying it near my switchblade. This was probably all a part of his scheme, whatever it might have been, and for what seemed like forever I struggled to find words. "H-Have you stolen anything yet?" I finally stammered, trying to confirm the obvious.

He looked sorry to have scared me and regarded my sudden apprehension calmly, putting up a delicate hand in defense. "Do not be frightened, my lovely; my business at the mansion is done and I dare not harm an angel or steal her harp."

"Oh," I breathed, relaxing a little. "Well . . . what do you want, then?" I tried not to make the question seem rude, using the gentlest tone I could muster.

"I simply wanted to bask in your beauty, if only for tonight," the Phantom said. "But I will regretfully leave, if you wish."

He stood up, brushing himself off like a stereotypical metro man, and gazed at me wistfully, as if waiting for me to beg him not to go like most of the sniveling girls he probably met. But I decided to retain my dignity and had no intention of stopping him; it was probably best for him to leave.

"Lucy?" Lumina's tremulous voice cut through the silence, hidden behind the half-closed door that she had opened quite stealthily. "Are you alive? Is he gone?"

We both looked in the direction of the doors. I didn't know what to say, looking from the thief to the door and then back again, trying to make him take advantage of the opportunity and leave. Phantom Skye took my hint but didn't make any effort to run, instead smirking and looking amused; I assumed he wanted to get acquainted with more of the local ladies tonight and didn't mind revealing himself to my friend.

A little foolish, I thought, considering he had just burgled her home and it would be wiser to flee the scene of crime, but I just shrugged and gave Lumina the all-clear. "Um, yeah, everything's okay. You can come out now."

She tentatively emerged from the doorway, clutching a butcher knife in a small, shaky hand and looking rather perturbed. Her eyes flitted around frantically before they settled on us and widened in shock at the ostentatious spectacle of a man casually standing beside me.

"Hehe. Hello, beautiful," he said to the stupefied girl. "Cat got your tongue?"

Lumina continued to stare dumbly for a moment before breaking into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, dropping her weapon and cradling her childish face in her hands. I, needless to say, was shocked at her sudden change in behavior and stared just as dumbly as she had a few moments ago.

"Ooh, who are _you, _Mr. Smooth-talker?" she practically squealed, as if she had never received a compliment in her life.

The Phantom gave another chuckle and replied, "Why, I am the notorious Phantom Skye! It seems as though you ladies are quite ill-informed."

"Wait a minute." Lumina appeared deep in thought for a moment, seeming even more clueless than I had been. "_You're_ the thief? _You _stole our stuff?" she fumed, taking a few bold steps forward, hands on her hips. "Do you know who I _am? _I could have your skinny little behind sent to prison!"

Skye acted fast and closed the few feet between them with a quick stride, lightly cradling her chin in a pale, lithe hand. Lumina appeared dumbfounded once again, mumbling empty threats until she trailed off, sighing blissfully and gazing at the man through half-lidded eyes.

"Don't let such raw anger steal away your beauty," he purred, lingering a moment and then sliding his hand away, fingertips teasing at her jawline. When it was clear that Lumina's anger was completely subdued, he began to back away slowly towards the fountain.

"Lucy," he whispered hurriedly as he passed, turning my attention away from the dribbling girl. "We will meet again; it's in the stars."

And with that, he drifted out of the yard, slipping away into the night.

Silent as a phantom.

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_Well? Was it too rushed? Too boring? Please review and leave your thoughts. I'd like to hear nice things from my few readers (if any), although constructive criticism is more than welcome. :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, here's the next chapter for anyone who's reading this. Don't be shy to leave a review, even if it's a short one; I would be simply elated to hear from you, even if you told me my story sucked and reading it gave you a stroke. And thank you to __**button-pusher **__for being my very first reviewer. :)_

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It had been two weeks since my encounter with the Phantom at Lumina's mansion. Ever since that night I had had a riling in the back of my head that simply would not abate, an irritation that scratched at my nerves and frequently sidetracked me from my work. It occurred to me, presumably a week into the confounded mental fog, that I may very well have been infatuated with the metrosexual cat burglar.

I told myself that I was being stupid and irrational; I had had a similar experience before with infatuation that was not reciprocated and never went anywhere, so I tried to push the nagging thoughts away. Besides, I didn't even know the damn guy. But every time I almost succeeded to put him from my mind, what Phantom Skye said rang in my head, and he had uttered those words with such sincerity that I could not help but believe them to be true:

"We will meet again. It's in the stars."

So I decided to keep hope that something would happen, though I knew it would probably end bitterly, as things usually seemed to for me; I tended to be quite pessimistic, trying not to show it in front of others because I hypocritically detested pessimistic people myself.

I wasn't too busy that day, weeding the somewhat small fields with Takakura. Watering was not necessary because we had installed drip irrigation lines that kept the ground moist, which I was tremendously grateful to Takakura for. He was a very smart man, perhaps not very "educated", but he had a natural intelligence and always seemed to know what he was talking about. Like me, he was reserved and quiet, but enjoyed talking with me because we shared similar views on life, although his were just a tad kinder.

He wasn't bad-looking either; he was in terrific shape for a man in his mid-fifties, not looking a day over thirty-five, and his jet-black hair hadn't the slightest bit of gray. I was always astonished by his agelessness and wondered why he was never married, but never asked. He seemed perfectly content with the way things were.

In silence, we pulled weed after weed and shook the dirt from their roots, occasionally exchanging words on how the crops were doing and how each other's day was going. But there was a sort of tension in the air, and I knew that Takakura had something he wanted to say to me.

"Lucy," he began after another good, long bout of quiet.

I glanced up questioningly, encouraging him to go on, and continued my work.

"I've been wanting to talk to you about something," he continued, "and I wasn't sure how to put it, but. . . you don't seem to be getting out much."

Oh, Goddess. Not this again. I stayed silent for a few moments before replying with a smile, "You don't, either."

He chuckled. "I'm an old man, Lucy. I have no need to get out, just take care of things here and do the bookkeeping. But you, on the other hand. . . you're young, pretty. You're still a kid. You wouldn't believe how the time goes by."

I sighed, more or less repeating what I said every time Takakura tried to initiate this conversation. "Well, first off, you're not old. At all. You don't look it, at least. And I don't get out for the same reasons you don't. Everyone in this valley is either not worth talking to or doesn't want to talk to me, which is fine. I don't need friends. Lumina is enough for me." I wasn't being arrogant, but simply stating the truth. My sense of humor was a lot different from that of others and I would often scare people away when I did try to be social, so I deemed them unworthy of talking to if they wouldn't open their minds a little.

"I'm only trying to help," Takakura said kindly but exasperatedly. "Besides, don't you want to find a boyfriend? I mean, I know you're still just a young thing and don't need to think about that for a while, but a lot of girls your age are dating."

That struck a chord. The events of that night two weeks ago at the mansion came flooding back to me once again and I found myself thinking of _him, _mentally slapping myself for being foolish_._ And admittedly, I did feel a little twinge of envy whenever I saw a girl holding hands with her sweetheart.

"You may be right about that," I said almost inaudibly, mulling over my thoughts as we continued to work through the field.

Presumably another half-hour passed before Takakura excused me from working, much to my protest, insisting that I go and do something, _anything _else. I eventually gave in and meandered down the dirt path away from the farm, cringing a little as I passed the inn.

_Man, this village is small, _I thought to myself as I remembered how often I would run into people who would instigate socially awkward situations. Particularly Rock.

In the distance, by the path to Romana's villa, I could see a short figure with a blond head of hair swaggering down the path in my direction, medallion glinting in the sunlight.

_Speak of the devil, _I thought, looking around frantically for cover and deciding to hide from Rock in the Blue Bar, seeing no other available options. Hoping that this wasn't where he was headed, I swept in the entrance and closed the door a bit too loudly behind me.

I expected awkward silence and weird looks, but when my panic subsided I looked to see that the bar was empty except for Muffy and Griffin, who didn't even seem to notice that someone had come in and sounded like they were discussing a serious matter. I ambled tentatively over to the counter to greet them, seeing as we were on pretty good terms and it was better than just cowering in a corner waiting for the village "pimp" to complete his rounds.

"Hey, sweetie!" Muffy beamed, blonde ringlets bouncing as she snapped away from her conversation to face me. She seemed a little too elated at my arrival and it was quite startling. "You came just in time."

"I, um-" I stuttered, being interrupted by Griffin before I could say anything further.

"Lucy, we got a note from the Phantom thief. I'm sure you've heard of him," Griffin clarified, shooting the barmaid a warning glance and handing me said note.

_Oh, hell no._

I opened the half-folded, roughly textured parchment with a slight quiver in my hands that had not been there a minute ago and read the elegant handwriting:

_Tonight at midnight, I shall waltz into the bar for a drink._

_-Sincerely, Phantom Skye_

I froze for a second and then nodded slowly, eyes fixed on a champagne bottle in a shelf behind the counter. Was he really holding true to his word and coming back?

_Meh,_ I thought, _he probably does this to every girl he meets. But I still want to see him. . ._

"We were looking for someone to stay with us tonight so we can catch him and put an end to all this drama, but nobody wants to. Not even the police! Those lazy idiots want absolutely nothing to do with this guy," explained Muffy, understandably irritated at the "good samaritans" who ran the police department in Mineral Town.

Griffin could sense my anxiety and assured me, "Now, don't be frightened. By all means, you don't need to come if you don't want to. I understand you've got a lot of work and we wouldn't want you to lose sleep staying up late. Plus, this could be dangerous."

I supposed that this was when I would make my decision: would I stay and catch the Phantom, betray him, if he was ever serious at all, or would I go home and try to forget that we ever met to avoid drama? It wasn't possible to see him without looking like I wanted to apprehend him, but he probably had something up his sleeve, right? He seemed like a person who could make things happen, and if he was really true to his word, he would want me to be here when he arrived.

"I'll help you," I agreed, much to the surprise of Muffy and Griffin.

"Oh!" Muffy exclaimed. "Well, then, could you be here at around eleven tonight?"

"I promise I'll be here," I smiled, trying to suppress my sudden excitement.

After a flurry of thank-yous and goodbyes, I made to leave the bar, cautiously hesitating in the doorway and looking left and right to make sure there was no sign of Rock before I continued on.

_Ass hat. I shouldn't be afraid to walk in my own town, _I brooded, glancing at my watch to check the time.

Noon. Well, this day was certainly going to be interesting, what with there being absolutely nothing to do, so I decided to go back to the farm to inform Takakura of tonight's agenda and perhaps thank him for sending me out.

"Well, well," he chided as I appeared at the entrance. "Back so soon?"

"Yep," I said. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to be out late tonight."

Takakura looked surprised and then smirked like he knew something was going down. "Hm. . . may I ask why?" he questioned, a knowing smile creeping upon his face; he had good intuition.

"I'm not going on a date or anything, if that's what you're thinking." I stifled a grin as I realized that this was a partial lie. "They just need help with something at the bar and I promised I would be there."

Takakura hesitated a moment, looking into the distance and nodding before telling me gently, "Be safe, okay?"

"I will," I assured him, bidding him goodbye as I walked to my farmhouse for lack of anything better to do.

The house was small but very cozy, just the way I liked it. It was a log cabin, something I had always dreamt of living in before I moved there, with a simple, open floor plan and all the basic amenities: a wood stove for heat during the winter, a very comfortable full bed in the corner, and a little kitchen in the corner opposite. The bathroom was the only thing in the house I had improved on, seeing as there really wasn't much to improve to begin with. I had saved up for a year to have an air-jet bathtub installed in place of a shower because I preferred baths; they were healthier and helped to remove toxins from your body. They most certainly weren't a festering pool of germs like most ignorant people believed.

As I opened the door, my cat, a medium-coated tortoiseshell queen, slipped into the house through my legs.

"Hey, Kitty," I smiled as she accepted a head rubbing and led me to the kitchen to be fed.

She meowed unceasingly as I got out a small plate and took some raw liver out of the refrigerator, dishing out her favorite healthy meal.

"You're a whore for liver, aren't you?" I asked Kitty, to which she gave a flick of her tail and began eating.

I chuckled and went to sit down at my harp, fiddling around while my thoughts slowly drifted to Phantom Skye. Damn it, why did I have to keep thinking about him? I didn't exactly _like _him or anything, but the uncertainty of if and when he would show up again plagued my head for the better part of each day, and it was beginning to grow tiresome. But oh, well, I thought. I would see him tonight and find out what kind of sick game he was playing, because I was sure that that was what he was doing. What else could it be?

It was now three o'clock and I was restless, so I left the house once again to see how my chickens were doing. My favorite hen, an Araucana who we called Weirdo due to her strange but beautiful appearance, was broody and sitting on a clutch of six eggs, due to hatch in two weeks. They weren't chicken eggs, though. When I saw that she was broody, I thought it would be funny to go to town and get some duck eggs, which I slipped under the unsuspecting hen. Sure enough, she didn't know the difference and would care for the ducklings just as she would if they were little chickens.

When I approached where the moderately-sized flock was browsing for insects and worms, the friendly rooster, who I had hatched myself in a cheap incubator when I still lived in the city, ran to me all puffed up and tried to look intimidating. He realized it was me, though, and stood with a mesmerized expression as I petted his glossy feathers.

"I love you, Cocky," I cooed as he clucked softly. He was very beautiful, albeit a bit plain due to his mainly orange colors, if that made any sense. "You always take such good care of your hens."

As if on cue, he gave one long, drawn-out cluck and ran off to find food for his flock. I smiled after him, remembering how much fun I had raising him in the apartment for the first six weeks of his life until we moved. Luckily the neighbors hadn't heard his punctual crowing, which began earlier than I had expected; he did it in the wee hours of the morning and was only five weeks old when he started.

I then walked to the pasture where I greeted my cow Frida, who was always happy to have company aside from the chickens, being the only large animal we had. She had had a meeting with a bull from a neighboring town a few weeks before, though, and would hopefully be giving us a new addition to the farm. I ripped up some of the long grass and fed her slowly, listening to the grateful sounds of chewing as she stared affectionately at me and waited for another handful of the lush, green goodness.

The next few hours passed surprisingly quickly although there was no work left, and in the evening I went over to Takakura's so we could make dinner together. I was quite a decent cook due to Ruby, the kindly woman who had somehow created the hellish death spawn known as Rock, insisting that she give me lessons at the inn as often as possible, probably sympathetic that I was mostly on my own. We didn't talk much anymore, but whenever we would happen upon each other, she always had something nice to say and I would bring her fresh vegetables and eggs on occasion.

"This is very good," Takakura commented as he shredded more parmesan onto his mushroom risotto. "Ruby taught you well."

"Well, that lady is one hell of a cook," I said, grimacing when I burnt my tongue with a hot spoonful.

We ate quietly and after we cleaned up, I decided to head back to my own house to draw myself a nice bath and get ready for the night ahead.

I wasn't normally self-conscious about my appearance, but tonight was definitely an exception. While the tub filled up I searched through my dresser in an attempt to dig up some decent-looking clothes so as not to look like a slob in front of the object of my infatuation. I rolled my eyes at myself for thinking that way and settled on something casual but not too worn, setting the clothes on my bed and sighing when the cat promptly laid right on top of them, sure to leave them covered in hair by the time I was done bathing.

"You really know how to piss me off, Kitty," I admonished her as I went to stop the water.

After I disrobed, I pressed a button on the edge of the tub and the water was soon lovely and bubbly, the aroma intoxicating as I poured in my homemade lavender bath oil. I climbed over the edge and was literally up to my eyeballs in pure bliss as I relaxed into the welcoming bubbles, wondering if the cat was going to intrude on my nightly joy and stick her tail in the water to fish, as was customary.

_My cat is just as strange as me, _I thought with regalement, giving my armpits a good scrubbing. _And it looks like I'm almost due to be waxed again. . ._

Yep, I waxed; shaving was for men and it just made the hair grow back thicker. I managed to scrape up the money to go for an appointment every month or so and received a hefty discount for my regular visits.

When the water began to grow cold, I reluctantly climbed out to find that my obsessive rinsing had created a large puddle on the floor, as usual, but luckily this bathroom was built intelligently and had a drain in the middle. I would really have to stop doing that before I ended up in a situation where I lived with someone, but I told myself not to be silly; I never wanted to get married because of the arduous process of divorce, which, I thought, was what most marriages ended in. Then to be stuck with a kid. . . ugh. I shuddered at the thought. I didn't want to end up a single parent like my father was.

What_ did _I want, then? Isn't that what most people lived for? To get married and procreate? Heh, I didn't know. Life seemed kind of redundant, but I went on for the simple pleasures, I suppose. Like seeing baby chicks hatch, or taking a walk on a nice, gloomy day (I didn't like the sun very much, despite the fact that life itself depended on it). I also knew that I was a useful person; an organic farmer, not to mention a harpist, both of which were quite honorable in my opinion. I mulled this over, like I did quite often, as I got dressed and went to close the chicken coop for the night.

"Good night," I whispered to my sweet chickens who were perched on their roosts before setting off for the bar.

It was getting pretty humid and I could sense that rain was coming, much to my delight. To me, rain was really a treat and we had it probably at least once a week at this time of year; this was probably the only reason I enjoyed summer. Everyone just thought I had a bug up my ass or that I was a "vampire" because I enjoyed unfavorable weather conditions and detested the sun, but I thought the same of the happy-go-lucky pleasers who could not fathom why some people didn't want to get heatstroke and a nasty sunburn. Maybe they needed to get a bug up _their _ass. Or perhaps a nice tapeworm.

When I was close to the bar, a light drizzle began and I quickened my pace, gratefully entering just as the rain fell into a heavier downpour. Muffy and Griffin smiled amiably from behind the counter and greeted me.

"So, do we have a plan?" I asked after a few moments of silence, feeling characteristically awkward to be the first one to speak up.

Muffy seemed indeterminate. "Well, no, but what can go wrong as long as we're all here?" she said with her typical ditzy, air-headed optimism.

The blonde barmaid was sweet, emerald eyes always glittering with a genuine kindness that I did not see in many people. Griffin was the same, and although he might have been a little more intelligent, I could clearly see that they were meant for each other. Why they kept denying it, I didn't know, but I believed that things that were meant to happen happened - it was only a matter of time.

My heart was beginning to beat more insistently as the time of the Phantom's arrival drew near. Would he be expecting to see me?

Would he want to?

As I pondered this, a thick, exotic scent that I had recognized from Ruby's kitchen filled the air and caught our attention almost instantly.

"Is that. . . is that curry?" Griffin asked, scenting the air with a dazed expression.

Muffy got that same, faraway look in her eyes and said, "It smells so good. We have to see where it's coming from."

My jaw dropped as they made for the door in an almost zombie-like manner, shuffling out into the rain and leaving me to my own devices. Were they completely out of their senses or had somebody dropped a curry-scented smoke bomb? And why wasn't it working on me?

I listened to the beating of the rain against the roof, in a trance, until the door opened ever so quietly and I looked to see if the two had returned.

What I saw instead had me frozen like a deer in headlights, as I stood in front of the counter and was face-to-face with none other than Phantom Skye himself, perfectly dry and dainty as ever.

"Well, hello," he chuckled, not seeming the least bit surprised to see me. Maybe he didn't recognize me.

"Um. . . hi," I said, my hands growing cold and clammy.

"Why do you look so shocked, my darling? Did I not tell you we'd meet again?" the Phantom said as he approached me and nonchalantly leaned on the counter.

I hesitated a moment, eyeing him surreptitiously. "I thought you were bluffing."

"Lucy, Lucy. . ." he clucked, straightening up and locking eyes with me, "I may be a no-good thief, but I am most certainly a man of my word. And I'm immensely sorry for what I am about to do."

"Wha-" I managed, before I felt my limbs and ligaments cease to function and was completely immobilized, once again at a loss for words. "Wh-What the hell did you do to me?"

"Don't worry, love, you'll be able to move soon enough," Phantom Skye assured me, swiftly making his way behind the counter to loot the bar.

_Now, this is just peachy, _I thought angrily as the thief sifted through various bottles of liquor. Yeah, "prince of the stars" my ass. What kind of prince would do this to a lady? And _how_ the hell had he managed to do this? For the record, though, he didn't actually lay a hand on me to inflict this mysterious paralysis, which made me even angrier because of the way he could seem so gentlemanly even when he froze me like a popsicle.

I was more than a little pissed as he selected the last bottle, set it down, and rounded the counter to face me once again.

"Lucy, do you believe in fate?" he asked, looking me dead in the eyes.

"I do, actually," I told him truthfully, an angry edge in my voice. "But I hope you don't think that you're the one who made me believe."

That seemed like enough for him. "Do you believe it is fate that has brought us together again on this night?" he pried on, completely disregarding my irritation.

"Maybe," I said agreeably. "But I think that I'm probably just a part of one of your schemes. You planned this."

"Ah, that I did not, my dear. How was I to know that you would happen upon here on the night of my business?" the Phantom argued gently.

I thought of debating further, maybe telling him that things got around this village fast and I wasn't stupid. But something told me that there was some truth to his words and I reluctantly stayed silent for a few moments before relaying to him what had been on my mind.

"Look," I began, my voice having regressed to a gentler tone, "I don't know what you want, or what you're trying to do, but. . . if you're trying to play with my emotions, just leave me alone. It isn't funny and I don't need it right now."

I found that I was fighting back angry tears and I desperately tried to turn my face away, but to no avail; my stiff body still would not budge and I cringed internally at the man's remorseful gaze as my inner tension began to break.

"I. . . I didn't realize that I had antagonized you so," he said apologetically as a lone tear glided down my face and under my chin. "But I did tell you a fortnight ago that my intentions are pure."

He affirmed this statement by lithely wiping away another tear with his thumb and, at his touch, my limbs began to thaw and I found that I could move again. I took advantage of the opportunity and looked away in shame, but Phantom Skye's smooth, delicate hand turned my face to his.

"Don't fret," he soothed, taking my hand. "Once word of this robbery has died down, I will come again so that we can properly spend time together, if my foolishness hasn't detracted you. If you don't wish to see me, just say the word and I will not return."

I gathered the courage to look him in the eyes again and said, as dignifiedly as I could, "I'd actually like to see where this is going, if you don't mind. Maybe it's worth a try."

At this, the Phantom assured me, "I will treat you with utmost respect, and I swear to you that you shall never shed another tear on my behalf."

Scoffing, I said with indignation, "You think I cried because of you? No, I barely even know who you are and I'm still unclear as to what you want with me. I'm just frustrated and tired. I've got a farm, you know. And your little mind games weren't helping me get my work done the past two weeks."

"I was simply trying to add mystique to our relationship, but if it bothers you then there shall be no more of these 'mind games'," he promised, a beguiling but genuine smile lighting up his catlike features.

'_Relationship'? What relationship is this fruitcake referring to, exactly? _I thought.

Though I was trying to maintain a hard-ass front after letting those tears escape, I could not stop myself from smiling right back as all the joviality of our first meeting seemed to return, the tension of the last few weeks quickly dissipating at the promise of another encounter.

"Hehe. I'd better get going, but I'll be back in due time, beautiful," he chuckled, gathering his stolen goods from the countertop and flashing me another sly grin before once again slipping out into the night.

Before I even had time to register everything that happened, I heard muffled voices coming from right outside the door, leaving me to wonder how the Phantom had managed to make his escape without being seen.

"I could've sworn it was coming from there," I heard Griffin mutter as he and Muffy entered the bar once again, no longer zombified but looking rather disconcerted.

"Oh, Lucy," Muffy acknowledged me after what seemed like a little too long. "I apologize, I'm not sure what came over us. . . . Did anything happen? Was he here?"

"Yes," I mumbled, a little irritated anyway that they had left me when they were perfectly aware that a thief was on the way. Said a lot about the common sense of people those days.

The two exchanged an alarmed look and Griffin grumbled irately, "That dirty, greasy-pawed, conniving son of a. . ."

"Oh, I'm so sorry we left you all alone here! Are you hurt?" Muffy asked as she drew closer to examine me.

"No," I answered shortly, recoiling from her touch ever so slightly, "but he did paralyze me and steal a few bottles of liquor."

"P-Paralyzed you?" Muffy said incredulously as Griffin went to take stock of what was missing. "Goddess, how in the world did he do that?"

"I have no idea," I answered truthfully, surprised that she had believed me. He _did_ paralyze me, after all, but apparently left my face and vocal cords alone. Hmm. . .

"There are a only few bottles missing, but the Okuhattan is gone," Griffin called from behind the counter. "That was our most valuable bottle."

"Oh, dear," Muffy sighed, guiltily putting a small hand to her mouth and looking at the rough wooden floor.

Griffin shook off his irritation walked back over to thank me. "Lucy, I apologize for what happened and we're just glad that you're alright. Thank you for coming to help us."

"It's no problem, really," I told him, trying to stifle a yawn; it had to be at least one in the morning by now.

They tried to gift to me a slightly aged bottle of white wine, which I would not accept, but they insisted that I take anyway. I walked back home in the much-appreciated rain with the bottle in hand, too tired to argue, and figured that I would sneak a few gold coins into the bar later. I didn't drink, seeing as I saw no reason for it and wasn't of legal age (which begged the question of why they had given me the bottle), but I did enjoy the occasional glass of wine, which nobody had to know about.

_Wow, I'm such a rebel, _I told myself cynically as I shucked my wet clothes off and sank into my soft, old mattress, soon succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
